


but i think of you still (more than you might suppose)

by serenitysea



Series: call me up day or night; free drinks and bad advice [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance, a little cracky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 12:31:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3896428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenitysea/pseuds/serenitysea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/3891754">well i heard from the rest of the world you're in trouble</a>. written for a tumblr prompt of: skyeward + "have you lost your damn <i>mind</i>?!" + "please, don't leave me."</p><p>* </p><p>“Now this tree over here,” Ward gestures grandly to their left, “Is like the BMW of foliage. You’re definitely going to to want to give her a closer look.”</p><p>As she listens to Ward extol the praises of a mother freaking <i>tree</i>, Skye wonders – not for the first time that day – what possessed her to leave everything she could have ever wanted for <i>Grant Ward</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	but i think of you still (more than you might suppose)

“This is a terrible idea,” Skye mutters to the world at large.

They’re out in the wilderness somewhere because – honestly, it was the crappiest escape plan she’d ever _heard_ (and more than little surprising, because Ward was nothing if not thorough) – they’ve been running for their lives for the past four and a half hours. 

“Do you have _any_ idea where we are?”

Ward stops trying to recalibrate his watch and throws it away with a disgusted look. “No.”

“And we have no weapons.”

“I assume you’re discounting the ones in our heads and,” he tips his head suggestively, “and what’s under your skin.”

 

She does not reply:

 ** _you_ ** _are under my skin_

She does not reply:

 _i wish you’d get **out**_ _from under my skin_

She does not reply:

_god help me but i’m starting to like this guy again._

 

“This is a terrible idea,” She repeats, sighing heavily. “We need to find a way to make contact with Coulson and the rest of SHIELD.”

There is a smirk that she doesn’t trust _at all_ creeping across his face.

Ward is almost giddy when he announces: “I’ve got a better plan.”

*

They’re in the middle of some kind of festival, dancing and spinning like a demented whirling dervish.

“Have you lost your damn _mind_?” She yells, disbelief somewhat undercut by the half dozen bodies between them, swirling and moving without seeming to pause for air.

“You _said_ you wanted to be incognito. That we couldn’t afford to get picked up by anyone. This was the best I could do on short notice.”

“PRETTY LADY!” A rather alarmingly eager man comes barreling towards her, with a face painted full of colors and a strange headdress swaying in the air. He makes excited grabbing motions for her, and Skye backpedals immediately. More people crowd her on both sides and she’s pinwheeling wildly, trying to escape the crush of the fete.

She finally winds up slamming against Ward’s chest and doesn’t bother with apologies.

“Please don’t leave me,” she grits out, “Or I’m going to level this place out of spite. You don’t want that on your conscience.” 

When Ward takes her hand – ostensibly to guide her safely out of the path of everyone, though it’s more likely they recognise the threat in his eyes and clear the way out of a sense of self-preservation – all the noise and painfully loud vibrations seem to quiet down. She can think again. It’s the damndest thing.

“After everything I went through to get you out of there? Not a chance.”

Skye rolls her eyes and ignores his delighted chuckle as two oranges from a neighboring cart randomly swoop in, zooming straight for his face. He bats them away with ease and throws her a roguish wink over his shoulder. 

“Careful, Skye. I’m beginning to think you might actually like me.” 

 

She does not say: 

_you’re such a smug bastard i don’t care how attractive your face is_

She does not say: 

_as if i would have such a poor lapse in judgement_

She does not say:

_where is the alcohol i so desperately need to deal with this situation?_

 

“This is a terrible idea,” Skye reiterates, shaking her head as she focuses on keeping her powers at bay. It’s essential to everyone’s continued survival that she does not react to his blatant attempts to goad her into anything. She can do this. She is more than capable of doing this.

*

They make it through the marketplace and the dance without further interruption.

It seems almost unnatural to let go of his hand when they’re through the city gates, but she tells herself it’s nothing. That she’s imagining the weight of his gaze on her skin and the phantom sensation of a wet dress plastered to her skin and the incredulous euphoria that someone came for her _at last_. 

(All of which would be ridiculous, frankly, because – she’s _not_ that girl in a pink dress anymore and this is not Ian Quinn’s mansion and she can certainly defend herself.)

“What now?”

He sighs and appears to be holding back laughter.

( _How_ is this funny?)

“You mean _now_ that you wouldn’t allow us to stay in the city overnight and we need somewhere to sleep?”

“I wouldn’t _allow_ –”

“– So I guess we’ll have to rough it.”

 

She does not say:

_this is a terrible idea_

 

But only because she’s used up her quota for the day.

“You don’t have to look so freaking _delighted_ by it,” she mutters sourly.

“Are you kidding? Watching you try to fall asleep in a tree is going to be the highlight of my _week_.” Ward pauses, considering. “Possibly even my month.”

She throws her hand out reflexively and he goes skidding backward a couple feet. She can’t even take satisfaction at the slightly panicked look on his face because it melts into something else too quickly to analyze.

The worst part?

He’s _laughing_. 

“Asshole,” she tosses, but it’s lacking heat and they both know it.

“Now this tree over here,” Ward gestures grandly to their left, “Is like the BMW of foliage. You’re definitely going to to want to give her a closer look.”

As she listens to Ward extol the praises of a mother freaking _tree_ , Skye wonders – not for the first time that day – what possessed her to leave everything she could have ever wanted for _Grant Ward_.

“Hey.” There’s a seriousness to his features, and he’s apparently dropped the cocky facade while she’d taken her mental sidetrip. Moment like these harken back to gut-wrenching sincerity and the little voice in her head whispering _that it wasn’t all a lie_. “You okay?”

“Not at all,” Skye replies truthfully, frowning slightly at her own honesty. “But I’m getting there.” Then she takes another look at a grouping of trees to their left, and feels the beginnings of an idea stirring.

*

They sleep in a rather amazingly crafted treehouse that night.

Because, as it turns out, that an ex-spy with more lives than a cat and a girl possessing the power to level small cities with the flick of her hand can create something pretty incredible when they put their heads together.

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> AND THEN THEY BANGED; A SKYEWARD SAGA. 
> 
> \+ [tumblr](http://b-isforbombshell.tumblr.com)  
> \+ title comes from dixon’s girl by dessa.  
> \+ last but not least, have you been made aware of the [meadow ward](http://b-isforbombshell.tumblr.com/post/118319199005/grant-ward-walking-across-the-meadow-like-an-armed) phenomenon?


End file.
